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Yuuri’s been letting his hair grow for a while now. During competition season he was just too busy to do anything about it, but now that he and Victor are settled in St Petersburg, it’s a conscious choice. He likes the way it tickles his ears, and how he can put it in a little ponytail. Victor will run his hands through it while they're aimlessly snuggling on the couch, and it feels like heaven.
He’s not sure how long he’ll keep it for. A little part of him remembers Victor’s long-haired days wistfully and wonders if he could pull something like that off.
He’d have never considered it even a few months before, would have made excuses about his face shape or being “unmasculine,” but having a loving fiancé tell you you’re beautiful a few hundred times a day goes a long way. Yuuri’s been joining in on Victor and little Yuri’s nail-painting parties and learning how to braid hair with an unwilling Yuri as a model. He’s even asked Phichit for eyeliner recommendations.
He’s so much more relaxed in who he is, even if his anxiety still gives him bad days. When he looks in the mirror to see soft features and long hair, he doesn't think of the playground taunts for being a boy who danced ballet.
He thinks of a teenaged Victor flying across the ice, silver hair streaming behind him.
❄️
Yuuri's soon to learn the hard parts of growing out hair, though. One evening as he sits writing an email to Mari, his bangs won't stop getting in his eyes. He flicks them back, tucks them behind his ears, and even tries holding them up with one hand while slowly typing with the other before groaning in defeat and waking a snoozing Victor with the sound.
Victor makes an adorable snort before sitting up and giving his fiancé a heart-shaped smile. “Are you ready to go to bed?” he asks sleepily.
“No,” Yuuri sighs, “I’ve got to attach some dog pictures or Mari will fly over here to pet Makkachin herself. Do you have a hair clip?”
Victor’s sleep-addled mind is puzzled by the non-sequitur, but he does a little nose-scrunch as he thinks. “Yeah! I’ve got an old jewelry box full of hair things somewhere…"
Yuuri gets up to stretch and aid Victor's search. Two sleepyheads are better than one, right?
It only takes a few minutes to find what they're looking for. Victor pulls an ornate box off a high shelf in the linen closet and roots around inside. “Here!” He tosses a sequinned clip at Yuuri, but his fiancé is distracted by something else in the box.
There's a magazine clipping with a photo of Victor in among the bobby pins and scrunchies. It shows him posing in the Eros outfit, leg held above his head with two hands holding onto his skate. His silver hair is in a long braid over his shoulder. He looks so young, Yuuri realises. And so beautiful.
“Why did you cut it?” Yuuri blurts out.
Victor follows his gaze to the picture and, mysteriously, winks. “Why don't you ask our friends? I’m sure they've got some interesting takes on it!”
❄️
Yuuri doesn't get the chance to ask until a few weeks later, when he, Victor, and the rest of the Russian skaters are having a non-sleepover slumber party at their hotel the night before a competition. They're all gathered in Victor and Yuuri’s room with a pile of duvets and a few drinks from the minibar.
Mila leaves off video calling Sara and plops down next to Victor. “I'm bored.” She sighs. “You boys are boring.”
Yurio obviously takes offence, because he gives a little snort, but he’s too busy showing Georgi a video of Potya to retort in full Yuri fashion.
Victor yawns, stands up, and shakes out his legs, then falls gracefully into a stretch. Mila laughs at Yuuri for staring, but it's not (entirely) his fiancé’s beautiful body that has him distracted. He’s remembering the conversation from before.
“Mila,” Yuuri blurts, “Why did Victor cut his hair?”
“Finally something interesting!” she whoops. Yurio and Georgi seem to agree, because they grab pillows and sit across from Yuuri, forming a sloppy circle.
Victor smirks and sits down as well, snuggling up against Yuuri as the story begins.
“It is the biggest mystery that remains…” Mila spoke in a hushed voice. “Years have passed and yet still, no one has uncovered the real story behind the scandal… the biggest dilemma of all-”
Scoffing, Yuri Plisetsky crossed his arms, looking unimpressed. “This again? Still trying to explain why Victor hacked all his hair off?”
Mila stuck out her bottom lip slightly, “Awww, Yuri, always ruining my element of suspense.”
“Was anyone here actually surprised?”
There was low murmuring all around as the skaters listening shook their heads. Georgi was the only one who looked contemplative, like maybe he hadn’t exactly expected the topic Mila had referred to secretively to be Victor’s hair again.
Key word: again.
“Well, then again, no one really does know the truth,” Victor rubbed his chin, “Do you think you guys could guess the truth?”
“Yuuri, do you know?” Georgi asked, “Maybe Victor found he could confide in you about the truth behind that? They say love makes people do crazy things.” The last sentence could have been a joke from anybody else, but Georgi said it with a completely meaningful face. Probably pondering the tumultuous hold of love. Or something.
Yuri leaned back in his chair now, teetering in a way that clearly broadcasted that he had little investment in the conversation, but still answered for Yuuri, “I doubt it. Besides, these days the crazy stupid things those two do are more like stretching naked on rooftops.”
At the reminder of that incident, Yuuri, who had been silent up until that moment, blushed and stammered (while Victor laughed heartily), “Well, well- no. Victor hasn't. Told me anything, that is. Actually he said you guys might know?”
Again, Yuri made a scornful, smug noise- “Well, wouldn't you love to find out?”
“Well if you know so much, then why don’t you share with us the exact reason why I cut my hair then?” challenged Victor.
“Oh no, I’m not going first,” Yuri smirked, “Everyone knows you have to save best for last, after all.”
“Of course, naturally, I’ll go first,” interjected Mila, once again emerging at the forefront of the conversation. “I’m pretty sure I know the truth.”
Oh, really, seemed to be everyone’s simultaneous thought.
“So,” she began, “once upon a time…”
That’s what I thought, was the follow-up precedent.
“Victor met a beautiful reporter at one of his press conferences. Several years his senior and one of the fastest rising reporters of the media at the time, she was hard to ignore. Her name was Sasha Antakova-”
The strange thing was, it dawned on everyone quickly that Mila wasn’t completely making stuff up- they all truly recalled a prominent Russian reporter named Sasha that had risen to her prime around the time Victor’s hair came to be so short.
Dubious glances were passed all around the table. Victor, of course, said nothing, but waited to hear the rest of the story.
“Wait wait wait-” Georgi held up a hand, “The Sasha Antakova? I- I remember Sasha-”
“The very one,” Mila sniffed. Clearly, she didn’t approve of the interruption, but she continued on anyways. “Anyways, Victor met Sasha and though he normally didn’t grow close with any members of the press, Sasha was charming and charismatic and they soon became good friends outside the skating sphere. But their friendship was brief, as Victor soon realized that Sasha was only using him as fodder for her coverage…”
The story was ludicrous at best… but there were still bated breaths. Being prominent skaters meant having to be careful around the press- situations like this were not fun. Yuuri took on a concerned expression at this turn of the story.
“When Victor came to the realization that Sasha was using him, after she published an awfully insightful article without notifying him, he was furious. And hurt. The article exposed him as… a secret agent.”
There was silence, then laughter.
“Nice one! Victor, a cool secret agent?!” shouted Yuri, while Yuuri laughed so hard, his glasses settled crookedly. Victor certainly seemed pleased with the turn of events. Georgi actually happened to look overwhelmed with excitement.
“Without thinking clearly, he headed immediately to Sasha’s estate to confront her about it, perhaps to persuade her to retract the story somehow-”
“I've always been a bit impulsive,” Victor joked, then got the stink-eye for interrupting.
“Anyways, Victor arrived at Sasha’s property only to find that her gates and front door were wide open. Confused, still angry and determined, Victor didn't think much of it as he hurried inside to find her. Except. He couldn't find her anywhere- Victor, please stop interrupting-”
Victor had gasped overdramatically and clapped his hands over his mouth. Mila just rolled her eyes.
“Victor searched the whole house for Sasha but she was nowhere to be found… except for the sign of struggle in her office. He knew this was no job for the police and nor did he wish to further exacerbate the rumors. Then, he heard scuffling coming from somewhere, almost underneath him. By this time, he was worried about Sasha’s safety, so he managed to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.
It was an almost-hidden door to a basement, which Victor swiftly kicked down-”
At this point, Yuuri broke out into a small cheer for his secret agent fiance and even Mila couldn't be mad.
“There, he found Sasha, hands bound and tape over her mouth, thankfully completely unharmed! He freed her instantly- but then she just as quickly cried out-”
“He's behind you!” snickered Yuri.
Mila seemed to have given up. “Yes. Yes, he was. The attacker was a blur, so Victor couldn't identify him at first, but as he dodged blows and threw some punches, he realized the man was Sasha’s boyfriend, Anthony.
Thankfully, Anthony was no match for Victor's strength and training, and Victor had him pinned down and defenseless within minutes. What transpired next? The truth.”
Georgi was besides himself with the suspense and Mila was enjoying their starry-eyed gazes.
She continued with satisfaction. “It turned out that Sasha had published Victor's secret against her will. She wasn't a traitor after all! Anthony had been the one who forced her to divulge the information and publish the article for an unbelievable sum of money. After she announced to him that she was going to report his threatening her and also debunk the article she was forced to write, Anthony decided he had no choice but to deal with her… but Victor showed up just in time. And afterwards, Viktor cut off the majority of his hair to create another alias in secret.” Mila gave a wide grin. “The end!”
“I… I have so many questions,” said Georgi, “Why wasn't Anthony in the basement with Sasha? How didn't Victor find Anthony while he was searching the house? Did Victor not notice if there were extra cars in the driveway? Why would the gates and doors be open if it can be assumed that Anthony didn't have to break in-”
“Shhh- shhhhhh-” Mila waved her hands about, laughing, “Don't overthink it, Georgi!”
“Victor, you really have to tell me more about your adventures as a secret agent some time,” teased Yuuri, lightly, “I want to hear about all your exciting escapades.”
“Of course, anything you want,” Victor agreed easily, “Just keep in mind that all of this is a slight exaggeration. First of all, I have spoken to Sasha outside of an interview perhaps three times. Secondly, I am, regretfully, not a secret agent.”
That's when Mila butt in with a conspiratory wink. “Or are you?”
“Ahh, Milochka,” Georgi sighed wistfully as he leaned against the back of the couch. “Such grandiose ideas, such imagination. You remind me of a younger me.”
Mila hummed with intrigue, swinging one leg over the other and crossing her arms across her chest. “Why Georgi, you almost sound like you actually know something I don’t,” to which Georgi chuckled lowly and wagged his finger with a tsk, tsk, tsk.
“If you absolutely must know, I was there the moment Vitya made the decision to give up a piece of himself. Why, it was for love!”
Mila and Yuri both doubled over with laughter, Mila even squeezing tears in the corners of her eyes; Yuuri, on the other hand, just raised a lone eyebrow with a deadpan expression. Victor chuckled lowly. This ought to be good.
Georgi whined, “I’m serious, you guys!”
“I’m sorry, but -- ahahahaha! -- it’s hard to picture Victor doing anything so selfless for another person!” Mila squealed, clutching at her sides while an offended Victor huffed out a “Hey!”
“Sorry, Georgi, I'm going to have to side with Mila on this one,” Yuuri chimed in.
“Yuuri, not you too!” Victor clung to his fiancé’s arm with a pout. “My own fiancé, turned against me!”
“What kind of person were they?” Yuuri didn't budge an inch.
“Yuuri!”
Georgi smirked and brought a hand to his chin in thought. “I can't recall his name--”
“Oh, here we go,” Mila cooed.
“--but I do remember...yes, he was quite tall. Dark, handsome. Very handsome. I think he was one of the competitors for the Italian team? Not figure skating -- no, he was too broad in the chest for that.”
“I recall no such person,” Victor grumbled, his face buried in Yuuri’s shoulder.
“Perhaps, but I never forget the face of a man in love.” Georgi fingergunned in Victor and Yuuri’s direction. “Oh Yura, he followed this man all around the stadium like a lost puppy.”
“Disgusting,” Yuri spat.
“Now that, I can believe.” Yuuri ignored Victor’s pathetic whine as he idly sipped at his drink.
“Little Vitya looked at him like he was the moon itself, tried everything he could think of to get this man’s attention. Ah, it was love at first sight.”
“He didn't fly all the way to Italy, I hope?” Yuri jeered. Yuuri spat out his drink in stifled laughter.
“No, no, nothing so romantic--”
“Ha!”
“You're all so mean, picking on me,” Victor sighed before taking a sip of his own drink.
“--but nothing he did could get this man to pay attention to him. Then, on the last day of his competition, Vitya managed to get a word in with him.” Georgi cleared his throat, before breaking out into his best Victor imitation,
“Lyubov’ moya, you are the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. I knew the moment I saw you on the ice that you were meant to be in my life!”
At this, Mila and Yuri fell off their respective seats to the floor, they were laughing so hard. Neither they nor Georgi paid any heed to the glare Victor sent in their direction.
“And then!” The two hyenas on the floor quickly regained their composure, sniffling and panting to catch their breath.
“Vitya did the unspeakable.”
Even Yuuri sat at the literal end of his seat.
“After being rejected by the man of his dreams, ‘too childish,’ I believe he said, Vitya went into a depression. He spent many days at the rink just moping around.”
Mila snapped her fingers. “I remember that! God, Victor was so pathetic, poor thing.”
“I just happened to stay late after practice, and I had just walked into the men’s locker room to shower…”
When did Georgi start telling a horror story?
“...and Vitya was there, alone. Just standing in front of the mirror. I'd never seen such sadness, such determination in his eyes. He lifted the scissors in his hand, and just...snipped. Snipped it all away.”
“Wait, you were there?” Victor’s voice came unexpectedly, and Mila and both Yuri’s turned to look at him with surprise. There was some truth to this?!
“You were so focused, I'm not surprised you didn't notice me, Vitya. I must admit, though, I am just as surprised now as I was then that you’d go to such drastic measures.” Georgi mimicked Mila’s earlier movements and crossed his legs while folding his arms.
“It wasn't for this supposed ‘sake of love’, I can tell you that much,” Victor leaned back against the loveseat, an arm slinging around Yuuri’s shoulders.
“How old was Victor?” Yuuri inquired.
“Hmm…” Georgi hummed as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, thinking. “If I recall properly, I believe Vitya met this mystery man when he was...sixteen? Seventeen?”
“Victor didn't cut his hair until he was twenty.” Yuuri spoke matter-of-factly. Victor couldn't hold back the grin that erupted on his face, his Yuuri remembered enough to keep his faith!
“Oh yeah, that's right,” Mila nodded. “Your hair was so long for as long as I can remember, it all kind of blurs together before you cut it.”
These were the theories they had come up with? The only one that was remotely plausible was Georgi’s, despite its embellishments and grandiosity. Did Mila really think Victor was a secret agent? Absolutely ridiculous. Everything was so outlandish, seeming to try and trump the story before it. Yuri could feel a smirk creeping across his face as he began to speak.
“I know the truth.” The words came out plainly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. The smirk only grew as others in the room turned to look at him. He even had to fight the urge to stick out his tongue at Yuuri. He knew something about Victor that even Yuuri Katsuki didn’t know. That had to be worth something when it came to embarrassing him, especially with Victor in the room with them.
“How?” Mila was the first to ask, crossing her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrow at Yuri. “You were barely alive at that time.” Yuri let out a loud huff at the jab at his age, only causing Mila to be the one smirking.
“It’s really not that big of a deal. Victor is lazy. Simple as that.” Yuri crossed his arms behind his head and leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him on the floor. “Seriously. He just didn’t want to keep maintaining his hair. Too much of a hassle.” The words were said while staring directly at Victor.
“I mean… It makes sense.” The words were mumbled from Yuuri, almost as if he didn’t want to admit defeat. “He is sometimes really lazy…” Yuuri looked towards the window as if he was imagining a situation he has experienced with Victor. Oh here we go, the Russian skater thought to himself, he’s going to go off into fantasy lala land. Victor was fawning alarm and hurt, resting his hand on Yuuri’s thigh. Gag.
“It can’t be that simple. He, and everyone else, loved his long hair!” Georgi slammed his fist down, refusing to admit his defeat. “Only a man whose heart was set on another would destroy something he loved so dearly!”
“According to Yakov, Victor was complaining about his hair during practice one night and Yakov just mentioned cutting it off if he was going to keep complaining. Apparently Victor complained about maintaining it a whole lot behind the scenes. At least multiple times every practice and it drove Yakov nuts. More so than Victor just being Victor.” Everyone, besides Yuuri, was slowly inching closer to Yuri as he told the story.
“Yakov has had to deal with a whole lot of Russian nonsense.” Another wisecrack from Mila, though Yuri shrugged this one off.
“Yakov never thought Victor would do it until he came to practice the next day with his hair short again. That’s all there is too it. Apparently he had also gotten some gum stuck in it that night as well.” Yuri let out a loud yawn before checking his phone. He could see Victor blushing. Victory.
“It is getting late…” Georgi was now the one yawning.
“Guess we should all turn in. Yuuri, do you want us to leave?” Mila asked, turning to Yuuri who was still staring out the window. No response. Not even a glance in Mila’s direction. “Hey, Yuuri?”
“I wonder if he’d grow it out again… I bet he’d let me braid it….” The words were whispered, obviously meant to be a thought that came out in words. A private thought that ended up being not so private. He was acting like Victor wasn’t even in the room with him.
“HEY PORK CUTLET.” Yuri not only yelled the words, but banged on the wall. The Japanese skater jumped, his glasses almost tumbling off his face in surprise.
“W-w-what?” He had to fix his glasses, blushing and turning to face the Russian Yuri. “What is going on?”
“We’re asking if you want to go to bed.” Yuri rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Mila who was glaring at him. Georgi was already grabbing his things, yawning dramatically after almost every action.
“I guess so.” Yuuri stretched before slouching into Victor. “It is really late…” Victor nodded and stood, helping Yuuri up. Everyone packed up their things, sluggishly leaving the room. Yuri was the last to leave, lingering outside the closed door for a moment longer. He pressed his ear to the door, listening.
“Victor… Are you going to grow your hair out again? I want to braid it.” The Japanese man’s words were heavily slurred by sleep. Yuri could not make out what his fellow Russian skater was saying. He was constantly being interrupted by the same phrase, repeated over and over again slowly becoming a slur of Japanese and garble.
“What an idiot.” A soft chuckle and Yuri headed off to his own room, still thinking about how ridiculous some of the stories had gotten.
❄️
Yuuri’s a little tipsy and a lot tired, and the combination’s making him even more introspective than usual. His mind is no longer in its rut of long hair Victor--let me braid it--so soft thanks to Yurio’s screeching, and it’s turned to his former hero-worship instead.
He grew up on tabloid stories about Victor, and it seems like an old rumour is put to rest every day he spends with his childhood idol.
No, Victor hadn't been a playboy during his junior years. He hadn't even dated anyone until he was nineteen (How???? the drunker part of Yuuri cries.)
No, he didn't have naturally black eyelashes. He went through mascara faster than anyone else Yuuri knew.
No, he couldn't drink pro wrestlers under the table (Yuuri’s pretty sure Victor started that one himself.)
Victor hasn't been inhuman to him for a long time, but the posters he’d brought to St Petersburg attest to the vestiges of that time that still cling to him. Every time a silly rumour is proved wrong Yuuri’s reminded of the realness of the Victor next to him: the Victor he can touch, who loves him, who’s going to marry him.
Yuuri shakes his head and slides into bed beside Victor, ignoring everything for a bit but the snuggly fiancé holding out his arms to him. He buries his face in Victor’s chest and revels in his warmth as Victor’s arms come around his back.
“So.” Victor starts. “Who do you believe?”
Yuuri pulls back to look him in the eyes and says “Mila.” with a straight face. It lasts for all of two seconds before he lets out a little giggle. Victor coos cute before starting to laugh himself.
Putting his forehead against Victor’s shoulder, Yuuri giggles a little more before giving his collarbone a kiss. “In all fairness, I think I read a fanfic with a similar premise a month or two after you cut it.”
Victor snorts. “You tell me more about the dark side of my fandom than I’ve ever wanted to know.”
Yuuri yawns and threads his fingers through Victor's hair. “Yuri’s seemed to get a reaction out of you. Were you really just lazy, Vitya?”
“I hate to admit it, but he’s right. Beats me how he remembers--he was what, seven?Used to spy on us older skaters all the time, cause he was small enough to sneak around. That's how he knows about the gum thing.” Victor smiles as he reminisces and raises a hand to join Yuuri’s in his own silver hair, threading their fingers together gently. “He yelled so little back then. Looked more like a lost kitten than a tiger. Silly Yura.”
Yuuri’s eyelids are getting heavy again. He kisses Victor softly before pulling him down to lie beside him. “You should grow it out again. We could match.”
Victor closes his eyes and smiles at the thought. “I’ll--” he yawns, “--I’ll braid your hair and you braid mine.” He encircles Yuuri with his arms. “In the morning.”